


Kloktober, Oct. 3rd: Ocean or Outer Space

by Morpheus626



Series: Lee's Kloktober 2020 [3]
Category: Metalocalypse (Cartoon)
Genre: Gen, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-10-03
Updated: 2020-10-03
Packaged: 2021-03-08 04:41:41
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,065
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26799748
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Morpheus626/pseuds/Morpheus626
Summary: I chose Ocean for this one, and the lads get a magical, wonderful cruise!Or they would have, at least.And if they can’t manage that, maybe they can manage something else for their vacation, like not dying lost at sea.Just a hint of Pickles/Skwisgaar in this too!TW for mentions of a gun and the use of it (not on anyone though.)
Relationships: Pickles the Drummer/Skwisgaar Skwigelf
Series: Lee's Kloktober 2020 [3]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1948486
Comments: 1
Kudos: 3





	Kloktober, Oct. 3rd: Ocean or Outer Space

“This isn’t my fault,” Nathan said. “They told me twelve, and it’s twelve, and we’re here.” 

They were indeed, stood with suitcases in hand, on the boardwalk where the cruise ship they were supposed to be on should have been waiting. And it was twelve. 

Twelve, midnight. 

“I ams thinkings,” Skwisgaar said. “They was meanings the others twelves.” 

“Noon,” Pickles said, miserable. He had just known this would happen. “They meant, noon.” 

“We could still make it,” Murderface said. “That’s not that long ago!” 

“Yes it ams!” Toki said, with Skwisgaar, Nathan, and Pickles all chiming in to agree.

But it was too late. Murderface had jumped into the ocean and was swimming out. In the direction of what, was unclear. 

“Murderface! Get out of the fuckin’ water!” Pickles called. “You can’t catch a ship, dumbass!” 

“That’s what they said about the Titanic, and they were wrong!” Murderface shouted back. 

“What the fuck is he talkin’ about?” Pickles asked. “They...they didn’t say anything like that about the Titanic.” 

“I mean, it doesn’t sound right,” Nathan said. “But I don’t remember enough about the Titanic to know if he’s right or not.” 

“He’s wrong!” Pickles scoffed. 

“Wes gots to get him out!” Toki cried, his suitcases dropped and a hand reaching to Murderface as he lay on the boardwalk. “Cans he even swim?” 

“Obviously,” Skwisgaar replied. “He’s ams fine.” 

“Toki’s right, we gotta get him,” Pickles said, and jogged further down the boardwalk. “Look! We can use this!” 

A small raft, that would perhaps barely fit them all, had been left tied to the boardwalk. It looked like it had seen better days. 

But that didn’t matter as they piled inside, some (Skwisgaar and Nathan) more reluctantly than others (Toki, who was crying, and Pickles, who did not want to be the one to tell Charles how their bassist had drowned trying to catch a cruise ship that had left the harbor over ten hours earlier.) 

Their suitcases made passable paddles as they chased Murderface down, who was blessedly swimming slower and slower and more poorly by the minute. 

“I’m gonna catch it; we’re gonna have the bescht time, scho many margaritas, and buffets!” he cried as they finally reached him. 

“Shut the fuck up, and get in the raft,” Nathan commanded. 

“You did this on purposche,” Murderface accused. “You didn’t want us to go!” 

“I literally helped Charles book the cruise,” Nathan scoffed.

“Yous did?” Skwisgaar asked. 

“Well, I was there when he did it, I mean. That’s basically the same thing, nowadays, with everything done online, you know.” 

“That’s true,” Pickles added. “Basically the same.” 

“Mores or less,” Toki said. 

Skwisgaar nodded, then called out to Murderface. “Dumbass! If he ams bookings us the cruise, why woulds he wants us to miss it?” 

“I...well! He...” Murderface stammered. “My legsch hurt.” 

“Get in the raft!” Pickles reached a hand out. “Before you fuckin’ drown!” 

“I won’t drown!” Murderface protested. “There’sch dolphins comin’ over now, to help hold me up!” 

“Those ams not dolphins,” Skwisgaar said. “Theys will have a good meals, at least.” 

“Just help me get him in!” Pickles grumbled as he snagged Murderface’s shirt, and started trying to drag him onto the raft, even as the material caught at Murderface’s neck, choking him. 

Several extra hands from all of them later, Murderface was in the raft, spluttering.

“What the fuck do we do now?” Pickles muttered. 

“Paddles back,” Toki said. 

They stared at the suitcases they had dropped in trying to get Murderface into the boat, as they floated away, and slowly sunk. 

“I have a gun,” Nathan said. 

“Ya mean a flare gun, for help?” Pickles asked hopefully.

“No,” Nathan said. “Just a regular one. But that could get someone’s attention, right?” 

Without waiting for an answer, he fired into the night air. 

The shot echoed, and they waited. 

And waited. 

And waited. 

“This ams stupids,” Skwisgaar scoffed. “Even the sharks have gones! What ams wes, if wes ams stupiders than sharks!” 

“We aren’t schtupid,” Murderface said. “We’re awaiting reschcue.” 

“And that ams stupids!” Skwisgaar cried. “No ones ams coming, and we wouldn’t bes out here if it wasn’ts for you!” 

“Well, if you want to make it all my fault for trying to catch the cruische schip, so we could have a nice time together...” Murderface said with a roll of his eyes. 

“I am dones with this,” Skwisgaar said, and grabbed the rope on the raft. “I wash my hands of this nonsense. I will gets us back to shore.” 

“Be carefuls!” Toki said. “The sharks might comes back!” 

“Lets them,” Skwisgaar said darkly. “I saids we ams going back to shore. I means it.” 

As he swam them back towards the shore, the rope held in his teeth, an awkward silence fell. 

“Anyone else a little turned on by that?” Pickles asked softly. 

No one replied. 

“Just me? Ah. Well. I’ll just...deal with that on my own time,” Pickles continued. 

“That would be great,” Nathan said stiffly.

“So...when are we gonna try and get on another cruische?” Murderface asked. “Like, soon, right? Because I’m still excited for it, and-” 

Nathan gave him a look that screamed ‘I will throw you overboard and not regret it one bit.’ 

They spent the rest of the trip back in dead silence, that didn’t break until they were on shore, safely bundled in blankets by a frustrated-looking Charles. 

“Hey,” Pickles whispered to Skwisgaar. “So, can I talk to you about-” 

Skwisgaar grinned. “My beds is open if yous wants it.” 

“Oh,” Pickles blushed. “So you heard me...” 

Skwisgaar nodded. “Doesn’t have to bes a things if yous doesn’t wants it to be. Sometimes yous bandmate saves you from certains death, and so yous fuck after.” 

Pickles smiled. “Yeah, okay. So, when we get home...” 

Skwisgaar smiled back. 

There might not be any cruise, or any vacation at all now. And Nathan, Murderface, and Toki were sure to be absolute babies about it for the next week. 

But at least some of them were going to get something good out of it, and if it so happened that the next cruise also got ruined and Skwisgaar had to once again save them from a watery grave?

Well, Pickles would make sure to dress up a bit for that one. Just because, of course. Not because of Skwisgaar. Not at all. 


End file.
